


The Road Not Taken

by ClaraxBarton



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: AU, Atlanta, F/M, M/M, theatre nerds
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2018-12-12 19:42:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11743851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClaraxBarton/pseuds/ClaraxBarton
Summary: What happens when a gay man answers the classified ad of a straight man?A mild-roast love story.Originally written and posted in 2014 on ff.net. Rewrite (more like a polish) in progress.





	1. Chapter 1

A/N: I realized that I had never ported  _ The Road Not Taken _ over to AO3 from ff.net and decided that, while I was transferring it, I might as well revisit it and try to clean it up a little. This isn’t a major rewrite, just a few little things that bothered me before. PLUS this version will have the generous and talented editing of Ro. So better all around.

 

A/N2: I’m not sure if I ever said this in the original, but one of my absolute favorite movies is  _ Kissing Jessica Stein _ . It’s older, so most of you might not be familiar with it, but it is PERFECTION, and inspired the premise for this fic.

 

A/N3: POVs will switch characters within the chapters, but it should, I hope, be clearly indicated.

 

A/N4: Thank you very much Ro, for beta reading all the things.

 

Warnings: angst, language, sex

 

Pairings: 2x3, 1x5, 3x4, past 1x3, past 3x4

  
  


_ The Road Not Taken _

 

Chapter One

  
  


"You know what I need?"

 

"A bottle of wine and a pint of Ben and Jerry's?" Duo suggested.

 

Hilde, his roommate and best friend, glared at him.

 

It was Friday night, and as per their custom for the past two years, they were watching a movie together at home on their couch. It had become a custom over the years because, invariably, they both jumped in and out of relationships every few weeks or months. Hilde had decided that no date with a 'future loser' was as important as spending Friday nights together, and Duo had been forced to agree. Of all the girls he knew, none were quite like Hilde, and he was happy to schedule any dates around their standing Friday night tradition.

 

"No. I need to try something crazy, you know? I mean, whatever the hell I'm doing isn't really working, is it?"

 

"Um… what exactly are we talking about?" Duo gave up on watching Leonardo di Caprio and John Lequizamo emoting in a fountain and paused  _ Romeo + Juliet _ . He turned his head towards Hilde.

 

"I'm talking about the fact that Jeff was an asshole. And Steven was an asshole. And Tom was a douchebag and-"

 

" _ Oh _ . We're talking about your tragedy of a love life," Duo concluded.

 

"Yes. Obviously. What  _ else _ would we talk about?" Hilde sighed and turned towards him. "Seriously, though, Duo. Look at me. I'm awesome. I'm hot. I'm funny and smart and sexy, and we both know I'm good in bed, so  _ why _ can't I find a decent guy?"

 

"Because every guy you've ever met is a pale imitation of me?" he offered.

 

She punched him.

 

" _ No _ . Because every guy I meet has expectations about the feminazi,  _ or _ he doesn't know I'm a Gender Studies doctoral candidate and turns out to be a misogynistic asshole anyway."

 

"So… is this you coming out to me as bi? Because I would support you. Especially if you were interested in a threesome."

 

She punched him again.

 

"No, Duo. This is not me coming out. I'm just trying to think out loud. To  _ myself,  _ since clearly you aren't any help at all."

 

Duo sighed and wrapped one arm around her shoulders. He pulled her close and rested his chin on her head.

 

"You're right. You meet guys who judge you on your looks or who know you by reputation. You need to figure out how to make sure they know what they're getting into  _ before _ you go out with them. I mean, that's what I do."

 

Hilde gave him a look.

 

"I do," he said defensively. "I meet a girl and I tell her up-front that I'm not interested in casual sex, and that I'm looking for the love of my life so we can raise a family of three kids and two dogs."

 

"I see you've gotten rid of the cat?"

 

Duo shrugged.

 

"Turns out kid number two is allergic. The point is, there are things I want to do in my life and I want someone to do those things with me."

 

"Duo. You are aware that in the last three years you've had exactly two girlfriends - and one of them is me."

 

"Yep."

 

Hilde sighed.

 

"I'm sorry, Duo."

 

He held up one hand.

 

"Don't be. You're the love of my life, Hilde, but you don't want children and I don't want to change a single thing about you." He leaned over and kissed her forehead. "So you're stuck with me as your best friend for the rest of your life instead."

 

"And Sylvia?" Hilde asked, forcing Duo to frown as he thought about his current girlfriend.

 

"Sylvia is great," he said slowly. "Just not… I don't know. She's great. She's fun."

 

"But?"

 

"But I… want someone that I can sit around with and talk to for hours about absolutely nothing, you know? I like spending time with Sylvia, but… I don't want to spend the rest of my life with her."

 

"You are such a romantic, Duo," Hilde teased him.

 

"I know," he agreed with a sigh.

 

She snuggled closer to him.

 

"Want to watch the series finale of How I Met Your Mother and scream at the tv again?" he offered, knowing it was the best way to get her out of a funk.

 

"Yes, please.”

 

-o-

 

It was two weeks and four terrible dates later when Hilde came home and threw a newspaper at him, upsetting the precarious stack of essays he had been grading.

 

"I found it!" she exclaimed.

 

"Found what? Clearly not your sanity." Duo dropped his red marker with a sigh, and started to pick up the mess.

 

"Nope. The  _ solution _ ."

 

She bent down to help him collect the scattered essays, and then spread the newspaper out in front of him.

 

"This is the classifieds section."

 

"Exactly. I'm going to put out an ad. That way, whoever I date will know what they are getting into."

 

"Uh huh."

 

"Don't ‘uh huh’ me. What?"

 

Duo shrugged.

 

"No, no. I'm sure it's a brilliant idea. You'll find all kinds of really empathetic rapists and child molesters."

 

"Duo! Come on!"

 

"Hilde! Stop hitting me!" he warned her when she raised the newspaper again. "Once a week, or I'm going to have to get a restraining order."

 

"But I'm serious, Duo. I can express who I am and what I'm interested in before even meeting someone. It's not like I'm going to find someone  _ worse  _ than Alex."

 

"No, probably not," Duo agreed, remembering Hilde's boyfriend from two years ago who hadn't understood that  _ no  _ really meant no until Duo had bodily thrown him out of the apartment and threatened to kill him.

 

"You know… you could do it with me…" Hilde suggested.

 

He arched an eyebrow at her.

 

"What?”

 

"Put out an ad. You never know. You might meet your soulmate."

 

"Or a guy who wants to cut me up and put me in his freezer."

 

Hilde shrugged.

 

"That's probably going to be the same person."

 

He glared at her.

 

" _ Come on _ . Just try it with me. You might be surprised."

 

She gave him her best pleading look, and eventually, Duo gave in.

 

" _ Fine _ ," he said. " Let's put out classified ads inviting crazy people into our lives."

 

-o-

 

"You get that he isn't worth your time, right?"

 

Trowa looked over at Heero, but his friend was glaring across the dark theatre at the action onstage. 

 

Specifically, he was glaring at the blond haired man cast as  _ Hamlet _ , Quatre Winner, as he rehearsed the final scenes of the play scheduled to open in two nights.

 

"What do you mean?" Trowa asked, though he already knew what Heero was going to say. This was, after all, a fight they had been having for years.

 

"You know what I mean," Heero growled. "You've wasted how many years at the beck and call of Quatre's whims? Three?  _ Four  _ now?"

 

Trowa glared at him.

 

"I'm not wasting my time."

 

"Yes, you are. You could be in a relationship with someone - an actual relationship where you wake up next to a man you love, instead of this."

 

"This?"

 

"Trowa. Come on. You and Quatre get together for a few nights every other month, and then you don't hear from him until he's horny again. He's just using you for sex."

 

"There are worse things to be used for," Trowa mused. Especially when he considered just how good the sex with Quatre was.

 

"So that's all you want? Because I seem to remember dating a certain foolishly-romantic scenic designer who wanted to find his soulmate and settle down to raise a family."

 

Trowa frowned.

 

"I was young and stupid then." He sighed. "But no, this isn't what I want. I just keep thinking he's going to realize that I'm here, waiting for him."

 

"Trowa, Quatre  _ knows _ that. He's known that since the day you cheated on me with him years ago."

 

Trowa had to wince at the reminder of one of the worst things he had ever done.

 

"I'm sorry."

 

Heero shrugged. Their attention was momentarily drawn back to the stage when Wufei Chang, playing the role of Laertes, met his death.

 

"If you hadn't, I never would have given Wufei a chance."

 

Trowa had to smirk.

 

"And now look at you. Engaged and on your way to a brilliant future with the man  _ you  _ want to spend the rest of your life with."

 

Heero frowned.

 

"I want that for you, Trowa. You're my best friend. Sometimes, I regret not trying to fight for you… but I never could compete with Quatre."

 

"Heero."

 

" _ Trowa _ . Get your head out of your ass. You’re turning thirty this year. Do you really want to be one of those forty-year-old gay men lurking around clubs, looking for a one-night stand?"

 

Trowa scowled.

 

"That was unnecessarily harsh."

 

"No, it wasn't," Heero argued. "Wufei told me what happened last night."

 

Trowa sighed.

 

They were in final dress rehearsals for  _ Hamlet _ , starring none other than Quatre. Trowa had designed the scenery for the show, and Heero, the lights. After the rehearsal last night, Heero had had to stay late to work on a few lighting cues, so Trowa and Wufei had gone to the bar across the street while he worked.

 

Quatre and the rest of the cast had been there, as well as the director of the show, a hot-shot from New York that Quatre had struck up an instant, intimate affair with. An affair that seemed to be drawing to a close as the show neared opening night.

 

Last night, Quatre had joined Wufei, Trowa and Catherine Bloom, the costume designer, at their customary table in the back corner of the bar and suggested that Trowa wait around for him after the opening night party on Wednesday - he wanted to say goodbye to James, the director, but after that he would  _ probably _ want Trowa's company.

 

Trowa wasn't really surprised that Wufei had told Heero about it.

 

"I can't believe you said yes to him - he tells you that you’re second-best, and you just accept it."

 

"It's not like I have a lot of other options, Heero," Trowa snapped.

 

Heero scowled.

 

"You would if you just opened your eyes and made an effort."

 

"What are you talking about?"

 

"If you just want to date an actor, then ask out Rosencrantz or Guildenstern - they practically masterbate onstage whenever they see you."

 

Trowa rolled his eyes.

 

"I don't just want to date an actor. I want to be with someone who..."

 

"Who what?"

 

"Who makes me think of nothing else but them," Trowa finished lamely.

 

Heero nodded knowingly, and shoved a newspaper in front of him.

 

"What's this?" Trowa asked.

 

"Just read the one I circled," Heero suggested.

 

Onstage, everyone had just died, and the lights in the house came up as if cued to allow Trowa to find the small box Heero had circled on the classified ads page.

 

_ Twenty-three year old male seeking committed relationship. Must have an interest in hour-long arguments about trivial information, and a love of dogs and craft beers. Above all, must be willing to speak what you feel, not what you ought to say. _

 

-o-

 

On Friday night, Hilde bailed on their standing date. Greg Clark had answered her ad in the classifieds, and she had a good feeling about  _ this _ one. This one, because the last seven guys who had called about the ad had turned out to be complete asshats by Hilde's standards.

 

So it was that Duo found himself alone on Friday night, heating up a frozen meal and trying to figure out what wine paired best with Lean Cuisine when his phone rang.

 

He looked away from the microwave timer and picked up his phone. He didn’t recognize the number.

 

"Hello?"

 

"Duo Maxwell?" The voice was pleasant, male and unfamiliar.

 

"That's me." Duo wedged the phone between his shoulder and ear, and picked up the wine bottle and a glass in one hand and his frozen meal in the other.

 

"I saw your ad in the classifieds."

 

"Oh- Uh… Oh! Shit. I completely forgot about that." Duo had to chuckle. "I haven't even had any replies to it."

 

"I'm surprised. Usually  _ King Lear _ quotes are great pick-up lines," the voice said in a dry, sarcastic tone that had Duo smirking in response.

 

"Yeah, I was thinking maybe I should go for  _ Macbeth _ and 'nothing in his life became him like leaving it', but it didn't have quite the same ring."

 

The unfamiliar voice chuckled, a low, warm sound.

 

"Most people just don't appreciate Shakespeare as much as they ought to," the voice mused.

 

"Tell me about it," Duo groused. He set the Lean Cuisine down on the dining table and poured a generous amount of wine into the glass before taking an equally generous sip. "I was grading these papers the other day, and it just- It breaks my heart sometimes, to see how much kids these days love reality television and the celebutantes, and they don't understand that Shakespeare already invented all of this amazing drama four hundred years ago!"

 

"You're a teacher?"

 

"Oh, no. Graduate student - and I'm a TA for a few classes as part of my assistantship. And… you are?" Duo suddenly realized that he still had no clue who he was talking to.

 

"Sorry. Trowa Barton."

 

"Oh, well, nice to talk to you, Trowa Barton. Is there a problem with the ad?"

 

"Not that I know of? Except that you don't seem to have had much followup."

 

"Oh, you're not with the paper? I guess I just assumed… Sorry." Duo contemplated trying to eat and talk at the same time, but thought it best not to so he settled on drinking more instead.

 

"No, I'm not. I saw the  _ Lear _ quote and was intrigued. Usually, the classifieds are filled with measurements and physical descriptions - it's rare you see someone write anything that emotional or intellectual. I thought you would be interesting to talk to at least."

 

Duo found himself feeling pleased and embarrassed at the same time. The whole thing had been such a throwaway idea of Hilde's, but he had added the line in there just to put a bit of himself out there.

 

"Do you often search the classifieds for… intriguing conversations, Trowa?"

 

Another warm chuckle.

 

"No, actually. I didn't even find it - a friend of mine did, and shoved the paper in my face in the middle of working on a project."

 

Duo had to laugh, thinking that Hilde would have done much the same to him - had done so many times, in fact.

 

"What do you do? If I can ask?"

 

"I'm a scenic designer - freelance. I work around town and some out-of-state gigs."

 

"A scenic designer… Like for theatre?" Duo tried to rack his brain, and realized he didn't really know what that meant.

 

"I've done some television, but mostly theatre, yes."

 

"Oh. Well, I guess that explains the love for Shakespeare."

 

"It does - and you? You said you were a graduate student? Literature?"

 

"Oh, no - history, actually - but I finagled my way into a TA position for this Tudor History class, so  _ that _ is my current joy and exquisite pain."

 

"And do you take it out on them? One's pain is lessened by another's anguish?" Trowa asked, a teasing note to his voice as he quoted Shakespeare.

 

Duo laughed.

 

"No. I'm such a sucker, to be honest, and all I want is for the students to understand just how… infinitely beautiful the past can be, you know? So if I see even a glimmer of hope, I grade easier."

 

"And they  _ don't _ take advantage of you?"

 

"Oh, hell yeah, they do. I've got a reputation as being such a pushover."

 

Trowa chuckled, and Duo found himself smiling at the sound.

 

"Tell me more about this scenic design thing. I'm sorry, I don't know much about theatre or… design."

 

"Well, every story has a setting, right?" Trowa said.

 

"Sure - long ago in a galaxy far, far away?"

 

"Just like that," Trowa agreed. "And the location - the setting - is as much a part of the story as the dialogue. It's my job to give the story a physical entity. I read a play, I talk to a director, and I think about what the play is about - what it means, why it's important,  _ where _ would make it more important. And I go from there."

 

Duo abandoned the frozen dinner and took the wine over to the couch. He poured himself another glass and settled back.

 

"Huh. That sounds- Actually, it sounds amazing. What’s been your favorite design so far?"

 

The conversation jumped off from there. Trowa spoke about his favorite designs, and somehow that segued into their mutual love for the Yankees and baseball, and then to why Duo was getting a PhD in history.

 

Hilde's arrival home three hours later startled Duo mid-sentence.

 

"Hey," he greeted her reflexively.

 

"Hey," Trowa said, amused.

 

"Hi," Hilde responded. She looked tired, but had a wide, satisfied smile on her face.

 

"Sorry, my roommate just got home," Duo told Trowa, and then he realized what that meant. "Shit. It's after midnight. I had no idea, I'm sorry. I-"

 

"Duo. It's fine," Trowa assured him, still sounding amused.

 

"Yeah, okay. Cool. But I should go."

 

Hilde was giving him a funny look, and Duo gestured for her to give him a minute.

 

"I'm glad I called," Trowa said.

 

"Yeah, me too. Actually, do you want to grab drinks? Tomorrow? The Yankees game will be on, and there's a good bar-"

 

"Sidebar?"

 

Duo had to smile. Of all the bars in Atlanta, they had been thinking of the same one.

 

"Yeah. Anyway, first pitch is just after eight…"

 

"Sounds good. I'll see you there."

 

Duo hung up and looked over at Hilde.

 

"Going on a date?" she asked him.

 

Duo shook his head.

 

"No, it's a guy. We're going to hang out and watch the Yankees game tomorrow."

 

She smiled.

 

"Are you finally hanging out with the other TAs?"

 

Duo scowled.

 

"Hell no. No, Trowa saw my classified and thought it was amusing I used a  _ Lear _ quote so he called."

 

Hilde arched an eyebrow.

 

"Really?"

 

Duo rolled his eyes.

 

"Yes, really. Other people read Shakespeare, you know."

 

"No, I'm sure they do, but…" She shrugged. "Well, you and your new bestie have fun."

 

Duo glared.

 

" _ Anyway _ , how did your actual date go?"

 

Hilde flopped down on the couch beside him, and gave him a goofy grin.

 

"Amazing. He was great. Smart, and he complimented me on my laugh and didn't say  _ anything _ about my physical appearance except that he liked my smile, and he didn't hold open a single door for me and-"

 

"And you're totally in love. Jesus. Is this what a feminazi in love looks like?"

 

She punched his shoulder.

 

"Ow!"

 

"Don't call me that. Besides, I'm not  _ in love _ . Just happy to have gone on a decent date with a decent guy."

 

"Uh huh. When are you seeing him again?"

 

"For lunch, tomorrow."

 

-o-

 

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

 

A/N: I realized that I had never ported  _ The Road Not Taken _ over to AO3 from ff.net and decided that, while I was transferring it, I might as well revisit it and try to clean it up a little. This isn’t a major rewrite, just a few little things that bothered me before. PLUS this version will have the generous and talented editing of Ro. So better all around.

 

A/N2: I’m not sure if I ever said this in the original, but one of my absolute favorite movies is  _ Kissing Jessica Stein _ . It’s older, so most of you might not be familiar with it, but it is PERFECTION, and inspired the premise for this fic.

 

A/N3: POVs will switch characters within the chapters, but it should, I hope, be clearly indicated.

 

A/N4: Thank you very much Ro, for beta reading all the things. And to Kangofu-CB for beta reading. You two are amazing and so much more than I deserve.

 

Warnings: angst, language, sex

 

Pairings: 2x3, 1x5, 3x4, past 1x3, past 3x4

  
  


_ The Road Not Taken _

 

Chapter Two

 

"Why are you smiling?"

 

"What?" Trowa had to remove one of his earbuds and ask Heero to repeat his question.

 

"Why are you smiling?" Heero asked again, scowling at the expression on Trowa's face.

 

"Because I'm happy?"

 

"You're running. You're never happy when you're running."

 

It was true. For the past six years, he and Heero had gone running at least three times a week early in the morning, and Trowa had hated it from the start. He used to think Heero had forced him to do it just as a form of torture, and six years later, he was convinced that Heero was both a sadist and a masochist since  _ Heero  _ didn't seem to enjoy it much either.

 

"Well, I'm not thinking about running," Trowa allowed.

 

Heero gave him a curious look, and then came to a dead stop. Trowa slowed down and then stopped as well when he realized Heero was standing still.

 

"You took him back again, didn't you?"

 

"What?”

 

Heero’s jaw locked and his eyes narrowed.

 

“Did he call you and-”

 

“Quatre? No. No, I didn't," Trowa insisted. He had, as a matter of fact, texted Quatre late last night to cancel their plans to go out  _ tonight _ so that he could go out with Duo instead.

 

It had felt indescribably good to cancel on Quatre.

 

"Then what the hell are you so happy about?" Heero demanded.

 

"I called Duo."

 

"Duo?"

 

"The ad that you circled in red for me. Duo Maxwell. With the  _ Lear  _ quote?"

 

Heero smirked and finally started running again. Trowa reluctantly followed suit.

 

"And you… liked him?" Heero thought to ask five minutes later.

 

"Yes. I did." Trowa smiled again, thinking about their three-hour conversation last night. "A lot. We're going out tonight."

 

"Stop smiling like that, Trowa," Heero muttered.

 

"Like what?"

 

"Like you're happy. I'm not used to it."

 

Trowa gave him a look, and Heero smirked.

 

"What was his name again?"

 

"Duo. Duo Maxwell."

 

"You're smiling just  _ saying his name _ ."

 

"Maybe I'm just smiling because I finally fell in love with running?" Trowa suggested.

 

Heero snorted derisively.

 

He should be bothered by Heero's teasing, but he wasn't. It felt bizarre to be this attracted and connected to another person after just a three-hour phone conversation, but he did. Duo was smart and funny, and his voice… His voice was the sexiest thing Trowa had ever heard. He wondered how different it would be in person.

 

"Are you sure he isn't a serial killer or something?" Heero asked after several minutes of running in silence.

 

"He's a graduate student at Emory - he's getting his doctorate in history."

 

"That doesn't mean he's not a serial killer," Heero pointed out.

 

"If he is, he has extremely good taste in books and movies. At least I'll be entertained as he kills me."

 

"What if he turns out to be ugly?"

 

"Jesus, Heero, thanks for the support."

 

"I'm only asking the obvious question here. What if he weighs three hundred pounds and-"

 

"How he looks matters, yes," Trowa conceded. "But if I was  _ only _ interested in how someone looked, I'd ask out Rosencrantz or Guildenstern."

 

After Heero's throwaway comment earlier in the week, Trowa  _ had _ noticed the two actors’ attention and very obvious attraction to him. It was amusing, and vaguely gratifying, but Trowa wasn't interested in either of them.

 

"Where are you taking him?" Heero asked.

 

"Why? So you can stalk me at the bar?"

 

Heero shrugged one shoulder.

 

"Do you need me to? In case he  _ does _ weigh three hundred pounds or is a serial killer?"

 

"If he weighs three hundred pounds, then I'll deal with it. If he is a serial killer, I seriously doubt that's going to come up on our first date."

 

"I'm just saying. I'm here for you."

 

"Thanks, buddy," Trowa told him sarcastically, and resolutely put his earbuds back in, signalling an end to the conversation.

 

He couldn't help but think that with a voice like his, Duo didn't even  _ need  _ to be that handsome - Trowa would be perfectly content to just close his eyes and listen to him speak.

 

That evening as he got ready for the date, he only briefly debated what to wear - it was a bar and a baseball game, so it would be a fairly casual first date. He decided on a gray henley t-shirt and fitted khaki pants. He didn't have very high expectations about bringing Duo back to his apartment, so he went for comfort when selecting boxer briefs instead of the tight, black pair that were Quatre's favorites.

 

When he arrived at the bar, he looked around for Duo - the other man had texted him to say he would be the obnoxious-looking Yankees fan - when his phone started to ring.

 

He saw that it was Heero and reluctantly answered.

 

"Hello?"

 

"He hasn't killed you yet?"

 

"No, he hasn't killed me yet. I haven't even met him."

 

"He stood you up?"

 

"No, I don't think so. I'm just now looking for him."

 

"Keep me on the phone with you. If he turns out to be a nightmare, you can say you have an emergency."

 

"Is this the kind of wingman support I've been missing all these years?" Trowa had to ask.

 

"Yes. Don't you regret wasting that time on Quatre now?"

 

"No," Trowa answered honestly. "Not if it means I got to avoid this. You are seriously-"

 

Standing near the back of the bar, wearing a Yankees t-shirt, was a man who waved at Trowa. His brown hair was long enough that he had it pulled back into a loose ponytail at the nape of his neck. He was a few inches shorter than Trowa, with a lean build and strong, broad features that transformed into a devastatingly handsome smile when he saw Trowa looking back at him.

 

"Trowa? Are you still there?"

 

"Yeah." Trowa tore his attention away from the man’s face long enough to respond. "He's here. He's not disgusting, and if he wants to kill me, I'm okay with that." He hung up before Heero could say anything else.

 

-o-

 

By the end of the night, Duo felt confident he had found a new best friend.

 

Trowa got all of his jokes, his Shakespeare references,  _ and _ he loathed the Red Sox almost as much as Duo did. 

 

They had spent a pleasant few hours together at Sidebar, watching the game, eating hot dogs, and drinking beer. The bar had been packed, and the only decent seat had been a booth in the back that they had had to cram into side-by-side so they could both watch the game. It had been worth it, though, Duo reflected.

 

They had stayed after the game, still drinking and talking, but by eleven, Duo felt he should head home and catch up on grading.

 

As they walked across the parking lot, their shoulders bumped together, and Duo couldn't help but think that this entire night had been surreal. One three-hour phone conversation, drinks and dinner, and now he felt like he had known Trowa for years.

 

They approached Duo's car and he slowed down, hesitant to go home.

 

"Well," Duo scratched the back of his neck, suddenly feeling inexplicably awkward, "this is me." He gestured to his Corolla.

 

Trowa nodded.

 

"I'm over there somewhere," he added, with a vague gesture that made Duo smile.

 

They stood in silence for a moment.

 

"So-" they said at the same time, and Duo had to laugh. Trowa smiled slightly, and the tension broke.

 

"This was great," Duo said. "I'd love to do it again sometime. Are you free this weekend? We could watch the Yankees game down at the bar or-"

 

His offer was cut off when Trowa's mouth silenced him. His lips were hot and smooth, and his tongue- his tongue was in Duo's mouth.

 

Duo froze.

 

Trowa had moved close enough that their entire bodies were touching now. Trowa was warm, his body was hard, and Duo felt…

 

"What was that?" he had to ask when Trowa stepped back. He could hear just how breathless he was. He could  _ feel _ his heart pounding and his lips nearly throbbing from the contact.

 

Trowa winced.

 

"Not my best work, I'm sorry." One corner of his mouth tipped up. "Let me try again."

 

Before Duo could formulate any kind of coherent thought, much less a response, Trowa was kissing him again. 

 

Trowa’s tongue caressed Duo's lips and he opened his mouth reflexively, and then he felt a shot of electricity through his entire body as their tongues met. Trowa's hands moved up to cradle Duo's skull, his fingers threading through Duo's hair, and he shifted forward so that their groins rubbed together.

 

Duo stepped back and held up his hands.

 

"No. I- I'm- Are you  _ gay _ ?"

 

Trowa arched an eyebrow.

 

"Yes?" The taller man looked Duo over, and his expression slowly became a completely neutral mask. "You aren't."

 

"Ah, no. No, I'm not."

 

"So this date was just… What was this, then?" There was the faintest thread of anger in Trowa's voice.

 

"Date? This wasn't a…" Duo realized way too late that it  _ had _ been a date. "Fuck. I thought you just saw the ad and… wanted to hang out… I didn't realize…" He ran a hand through his hair.

 

"Typically, classified ads in the "Seeking" section mean you are  _ seeking _ a date," Trowa bit out.

 

"Yeah, I  _ was,  _ but-"

 

"And  _ you _ were the one who suggested we go out and get a drink."

 

"Yeah, I did, but-"

 

"And you're the one who insisted on sitting in that goddamned miniscule booth together."

 

"Yeah, because-"

 

"You practically sat in my lap to get the waitress's attention."

 

"Okay, that  _ was _ a little-"

 

"And you're the one who  _ wiped mustard from my mouth _ ."

 

Duo felt himself flushing red.

 

"It never occurred to me that you were gay. I seriously thought we were just hanging out, and you- Fuck it, you're awesome. I guess I've never been one for personal space issues, so I just- Look. I'm sorry. You called me, I thought you were with the paper, and then you weren't and we just talked for hours, and I figured, hey, I don't hang out with that many guys who care about baseball or Tudor England or  _ any _ of the shit I do, and- I jumped. I did. And I'm sorry."

 

Trowa stood there, his face still impassive but his body tense with anger.

 

"The fucked-up thing is," Trowa said, his lips twisting into a bitter smile, "the fucked up thing is that this was the best date I've been on in years. And it was with a straight guy." He shook his head.

 

"I am sorry," Duo said. He didn't know what else to say. "I- I should go." He dug his keys out of his pocket.

 

"You know," Trowa said, the anger gone from his voice now, leaving his tone weary, "for a straight guy, you seemed to be enjoying that kiss. A lot."

 

Duo flushed again.

 

"I- I didn't know what to do. No one has ever kissed me like that. I mean, I've never kissed a guy and-"

 

Trowa held up one hand and made a shooing gesture.

 

"Run along back to your heterosexual world, Duo. Don't worry about it."

 

And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving Duo to stare after him.

 

-o-

 

By Tuesday morning, Trowa still hated the world.

 

He had spent Sunday in a foul mood, and as a result, his apartment had never been cleaner. He scoured every inch of the place with earth-friendly cleaner, and even scrubbed the concrete on his balcony.

 

On Monday, he had thrown himself into his next project and spent the day building the white model for  _ Eurydice _ , the next show he was designing. He ignored three calls from Heero and one from Quatre, but finally answered when Wufei called him twice.

 

"Tell Heero I'm alive," he said, "and that I'll see him at the production meeting tomorrow."

 

"You don't sound  _ happy _ to be alive," Wufei said.

 

"I'm not," he growled in response, and then hung up.

 

He managed to channel all of his anger at himself, Duo, Quatre - and Heero, for that matter - into his work, and by midnight on Monday, he had a rough white model of the set that actually distracted him from his anger enough to be excited about the show.

 

He went to the Tuesday morning production meeting with the model in one hand, his thermos of paint-strippingly strong coffee in another, and a glare in Heero's direction when his friend started to ask him about his date.

 

They settled around the conference table, and Trowa managed to put all thoughts of Duo out of his mind for the next two hours as they discussed the play and talked through the model.

 

It was a productive meeting. The director was an old friend of Heero's, and Trowa had worked with him once before as well.

 

The play was also one of Trowa's favorites, and it sounded like Heero and Catherine had great ideas for the lights and costumes, respectively. By the end of the meeting, Trowa was already thinking through the revisions to the set and mentally drafting the units.

 

He was drawn out of his mental realm by Catherine and Heero, who lingered after the meeting and gave him pointed looks.

 

He tried to ignore them as he packed up his notes.

 

"Oh, come on!" Cathy finally exploded. "Just tell us how it went!"

 

Trowa glared at Heero.

 

"You told her?"

 

"Of course he didn't,” Catherine snorted. “Wufei did."

 

Trowa sighed. He hated everyone in his life.

 

"At least he wasn't a serial killer," Heero mused. "It couldn't have been  _ that _ bad."

 

Trowa couldn't help but snort a laugh.

 

"It was perfect." He sat down on the edge of the table. "He liked all of my jokes, he got all of my Shakespeare references, and he hates the Red Sox. We had a great time."

 

"So, you look ready to murder everyone because…" Cathy trailed off expectantly.

 

"Because he's straight," Trowa bit out angrily.

 

Cathy arched an eyebrow.

 

"You answered a straight guy's classified?"

 

"Apparently. Yes."

 

"But he still went out with you? Did he think you were a girl?"

 

"No. He knew I was a guy. He thought… Fuck, I don't know what he thought. He assumed I wanted to be his friend or something."

 

"Because everyone trolls for friends in the classified ads," Cathy muttered, echoing Trowa’s own bitter words and thoughts.

 

"So, what happened? You clearly had a good time for most of the date," Heero pointed out.

 

Trowa sighed.

 

"I kissed him."

 

"Oh," Cathy said, and bit her lip. Then she frowned. "It doesn't look like he punched you in the face." She winced. "The stomach?"

 

"He didn't punch me," Trowa said. Part of him wished that Duo had. At least then he could associate the entire thing with pain instead of the incredible feel of Duo's hair, his body, his  _ mouth _ .

 

"Weird," Heero said, a thoughtful look on his face.

 

Trowa shrugged.

 

"Maybe he's a pacifist. I don't know. But it doesn't really matter, does it?"

 

"Well, I'm sorry it didn't work out," Cathy said. She stood up and ruffled his hair. "But it's good that you're getting out there and trying. And Heero's right. At least he wasn't a serial killer."

 

"Thanks," Trowa muttered.

 

Catherine gathered her renderings and left. Heero and Trowa walked out at a more sedate pace.

 

"Tell me you aren't just going to go back to Quatre after this," Heero demanded as they reached the parking lot.

 

Trowa snorted.

 

"No. I'm not."

 

"Really?" Heero sounded surprised that Trowa didn't try to argue with him.

 

"Heero, I just went out on the best date I've had- maybe ever. I didn't think about Quatre once, the entire night, and you know what? It was great. I  _ loved _ not thinking about Quatre. I loved being with another guy."

 

"A straight guy," Heero pointed out.

 

"Unfortunately, yes. A straight guy. But I spent, what, three hours with him on Saturday night and three hours on the phone with him on Friday night? Just six hours, and it still felt like I knew him and he knew  _ me _ more than Quatre ever has. I can't just crawl back to Quatre again. Not when there's a chance that I could feel like  _ that _ with someone else."

 

"I want to believe you, but what happens when Quatre calls you up again?"

 

"Probably the same thing that happened when he called yesterday. I'll ignore him."

 

Heero's eyes widened.

 

"The straight guy saved your life."

 

Trowa rolled his eyes.

 

"He did not save my life."

 

"Yes, he did. He made you finally realize you're better off without Quatre. That makes him a goddamn saint."

 

Trowa thought about Duo's devilish grin.

 

"I'm not sure that's how I would describe him," Trowa murmured.

 

"Well, no, obviously. He's the stupid bastard who turned out to be straight."

 

Trowa had to snort a laugh at Heero's ability to admire and hate Duo in equal measure.

 

"Let's not talk about him anymore, okay? It's not like I'm ever going to hear from him again."

 

-o-

 

TBC


End file.
